ly a cat sleeps,

        sleeps s pas posture,

        sleeps s wicked claws,

        and s unfeeling blood,

        sleeps he rings--

        a series of burnt circles--

        whe odd geology

        of its sand-colored tail.

        I so sleep like a cat,

        ime,

        ongue roug,

        he dry sex of fire;

        and after speaking to no one,

        stretche world,

        over roofs and landscapes,

        e desire

        to    ts in my dreams.

        I    asleep

        e,

        flo like dark er;

        and at times, it o fall

        or possibly pluo

        ted snos.

        Sometimes it grew so mu sleep

        like a tigers great-grandfather,

        and he darkness over

        rooftops, clouds and voloes.

        Sleep, sleep cat of t,

        h episcopal ceremony

        and your stone-carved moustache.

        take care of all our dreams;

        trol ty

        of our slumbering prowess

        less

        and t ruff of your tail.

        translated by Alastair Reid

        Submitted by Jen
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